


did i ever tell you...

by kinneyb



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23331067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: Jaskier gets drunk,reallydrunk, and can't stop complimenting Geralt.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 14
Kudos: 571





	did i ever tell you...

**Author's Note:**

> i dont usually post a ton of short fics back to back but i love how this turned out so...
> 
> twitter: queermight / tumblr: korrmin

Geralt sighed as he opened the door, holding Jaskier up with his other arm. Jaskier was singing, badly and loudly, and swaying back and forth, and smelled heavily of beer. Once the door was open, he walked them to the bed in the room.

“I—I don’t want—want to _sleep_ ,” he whined. “I feel _good_.”

Geralt rolled his eyes, mostly fond, and sat on the bed, pulling Jaskier down with him. Jaskier giggled and flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with glassy eyes. Geralt was vaguely worried if only because he had never seen Jaskier _so_ drunk before, but he seemed okay, just a little out of it. He would be back to new after some sleep.

“Just go to sleep,” he said gruffly.

Jaskier whined again, and stomped his feet on the ground. “But I _can’t_ sleep,” he said, “with my _shoes_ on.”

Geralt snorted, “You are milking this,” he said even as he scooted off the bed and crouched on the floor. Jaskier was probably grinning, he knew without even looking. He rolled up his trousers on both legs and tugged off his boots, tossing them.

“Mmmm,” he sighed from the bed, “You’re so good to _meeeee_ , Geralt,” he singsonged, a little too loudly.

He smacked his leg, “Quiet down; it’s the middle of the night.”

Jaskier hummed, but obeyed for once in his life and quieted down, swinging his legs as Geralt tried (and failed) to tug off his socks.

“Seriously,” he said. “Stop it.”

Jaskier obeyed again, and he tugged his socks off. Jaskier sat up, still swaying, and peered down at the man between his legs. He giggled, “Geralt,” he said, and he looked up, “You look like you’re about to—”

“Jaskier,” he said sharply. “What have I said about thinking before you speak?”

He giggled again, bright-eyed, and Geralt couldn’t be angry at him even if he tried. It was annoying. He reached down and buried his fingers in Geralt’s hair, messy from a long night.

“Hey,” he whispered, suddenly serious, “Have I ever told you how much you mean to me?”

Geralt startled. “Uh—no?”

Jaskier smiled, tilting his head. His eyes softened, and he scratched lazily at Geralt’s scalp with blunt fingernails. “You’re my best, best, _best_ friend,” he said, and Geralt smiled, unable to help himself. Thankfully he knew Jaskier wouldn’t remember much—if any—of this in the morning. “And—and I know you’re mean to me, sometimes—”

Geralt frowned at that, but didn’t say anything.

“—but that’s okay,” he said, nodding curtly, still swaying, “because I know how you really feel.”

Geralt reached up and placed his hands on Jaskier’s thighs, “You should sleep,” he reminded him softly.

“Hmm,” Jaskier blinked down at him, and smiled again, even brighter. “Geralt,” he said, like he was telling a secret, as he leaned down. Geralt watched with bated breath as Jaskier leaned closer and _closer_ until finally he stopped, their faces only inches apart. He could smell, even stronger, the alcohol on Jaskier’s breath. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?”

Geralt startled, leaning back. “ _What?_ ” he blurted, genuinely not expecting _that_.

He had grown up receiving many insults, constantly, from children, from adults, didn’t matter, and his eyes had always been an easy target. Nobody had ever _complimented_ his eyes, not even Yennefer or any of his other bed partners.

Jaskier scratched at his scalp again, “So beautiful,” he repeated. His eyes flickered to Geralt’s mouth and up again. “All of you,” he said. “ _You’re_ beauti—”

“Okay,” Geralt said quickly, standing up. “That’s enough.” His face felt hot, but that wasn’t right: he didn’t _blush_. “You need sleep, and so do I.”

Jaskier pouted, swaying and reaching up for him with grabby hands. “ _Sleeeeep_ with me,” he asked, eyelashes fluttering. Geralt opened his mouth to protest, but Jaskier—the little brat—just said, “I won’t sleep unless you do.”

Geralt narrowed his eyes, “You’re totally milking this,” he repeated even as he climbed over him and settled in the bed. Jaskier plopped back on the pillow, rough and lumpy, and rolled toward him, tucking his hands under his head.

“You’re a really… _really_ good person, Geralt,” he said, smacking his lips. “Like the _best_.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Just go to sleep, Jaskier.”

“You know that, right?” he asked, obviously not listening. “Don’t—” he yawned loudly “— _ever_ listen to them. You’re _good_.”

Geralt reached over and brushed some sweat-slick hair out of his forehead, “ _Sleep_ ,” he repeated softly.

“Mmm,” Jaskier yawned again, eyelashes fluttering. “Okay.”

Geralt watched, silently, as he finally closed his eyes and drifted off. Not even four seconds later, he was snoring. Smiling fondly, he reached out again and brushed a few strands of hair behind one of his ears, stroking his warm cheek with his thumb. Jaskier’s hair was getting long, longer than Geralt was used to. It wasn’t a bad look, though.

“Sleep well,” he whispered before pulling his hand back and closing his eyes.


End file.
